Me, Advent and Fasting

I've realised that it's no good trying to be profound: it stifles creativity and honesty.

So instead, I'm simply going to start writing about Advent and me. And I'm going to try and be brief. Try.

So it's Thursday 4th December and I've found an enormous freedom this week as I've decided to take more seriously the ancient approach to Advent of abstinence. I had already decided some time ago to do this as I've been growing more and more angry and the commercialisation of the three months leading up to Christmas. To be fair to the church we do try and resist the lure of putting all our eggs in the Christmas basket (despite Easter being the time for baskets and mythical lapine-speaking figures).

The church, however, has long forgotten the full liturgical meaning of Advent, and even those who try to reclaim some of the austere anticipatory character of the season tend to do so in terms of Christmas - it's all about learning why we needed Jesus to come in the first instance, which is a better intention than merely pretending we're Israelites awaiting our Messiah.

Advent is best understood in the urgent prayer: Thy Kingdom Come.

Now yes, this prayer is about the manifest need in our present situations to seek God's rule and reign: in our marriages, relationships, at work, in our churches, and yes in society at large.

But when we use the Paternoster phrase, 'Thy Kingdom Come', we are also joining in that great Advent cry: Come down O Lord! Rend the heavens! It is an excited, feverish cry that God would come and consummate this world and transform it. We are called to look eagerly for that day.

So...in an attempt to clear away some of the personal garbage, to fix my eyes on Jesus, I have sought to fast. And I would that other Christians would more readily use this ancient discipline.

So far I have committed to two fasts:
1. To refrain from Caffeine and Chocolate throughout Advent, and
2. To do a Benedictine Fast on a Wednesday and Friday - to only eat an evening meal.

I have also refrained from Music and background noise on the Wednesday and Friday.

I'm considering a series of other fasts; no media for instance (I wake every morning to depressing news).

Fasting is not a lever we pull to curry favour with God - ha! if only it were that simple. Never forget God already favours us!

No...for me, fasting is an attempt to find the real me, to pull back from unhealthy habits, to develop that oft-missing discipline of self-control, to still the turmoil, to find God. I'm partly grateful by dint of sheer circumstance that Jen (my wife) and I haven't yet done any 'Christmas Shopping', nor put up any decorations/listened to any Christmas music. There is definitely a sense of joy deferred at present, which isn't necessarily pleasant. Furthermore, Jen is 31 weeks pregnant, so perhaps it's not a season to be getting wrapped up in life's externals...

Alongside the lectionary readings, from Revelation and Isaiah this week, there is a need to intentionally look to developing a closer walk with God.

I should say that it's the fifth day of Advent and today's the first day the caffeine-headaches haven't been too bad...I've deliberately embraced herbal teas as an alternative - maybe I'll stick with them post Advent. Fasting costs something...it should.

On Monday I was excited to read an excellent piece in the London Evening Standard about Advent and the need for more delayed gratification. I applaud that piece.

Last Friday I was quite convicted concerning Black Friday, I had been reading Revelation 18 and 19 and there is the plaintive cry: "Come out of her, my people, so that you will not share in her sins" (Rev 18:4).

Tonight we read in Matthew 13:1-23 the parable of the Sower (the Seed) and its interpretation.

I just can't help feeling, as I think about my walk with God, that I am all too frequently choked by "the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth" (Matt. 13:22 NIV).

We are so often beguiled by the mega-narratives of our age: what constitutes happiness, what constitutes beauty, what constitutes spirituality...and so often these are false gods.

It is my personal prayer that this Advent, accepting the need to prepare for the feast of Christmas, and the need to remember my need of Christ's first coming, through prayer, fasting and time in God's word I might be come back to my first love (Rev 2:4): that I might Come out and be with God, just as I reinvigorate my cry for God to Come into my life, and come to redeem the world.

Ascensiontide 2014 - Day 1 - LOVE

I wrote about Love three years ago and I still think it's incredibly relevant...

Funnily enough, I read only in the last 48 hours something deeply personal which coincides with my wrong attitude to love. My brilliant wife is incredibly patient with me...but I confess I sometimes get my priorities all wrong. Particularly as a husband. My wife wisely sent me some links to online material. The Christian stuff was all aimed at husbands...and it hurt. Because it's true. You may not appreciate the tone, the rather old-fashioned view of marriage...and that's okay. But it worked for me, and it might for you, regardless of context.

The essential message is simple: love is about self-giving sacrifice. That is what TRUE love is all about.

As I approach Pentecost 2014, I am longing for the Spirit to transform me into a more loving man.

Here's a link to what I read...there are five sections. The first is on love. Take from a piece by Tony Evans.

Ascentiontide...God's kingdom: Our character

I am known for my peculiar affection for seasons; the weather seasons in the UK (or at least the seasons we should have), but also the liturgical seasons. Some seasons are widely observed: Lent, Advent and Easter (in that order I should add). But there are other, less formal, seasons that excite me.

So...allow me to speak up for the 'season' of Ascensiontide.

Ascension Day baffles many, mostly because there is that tension of seeking to commemorate an actual event (Jesus going to heaven, quite whatever that means), while also celebrating the paradox of Jesus at the right hand of the Father, while also being present everywhere as King of the universe with his people in every place and every age. There's also the fact it's always on a Thursday and never quite gets the press it deserves.

So, naturally, Ascensiontide, the period between Ascension Day and Pentecost, might be expected to focus on these themes. Ascension Day is 40 days after Easter, and Pentecost (note the Pent- part of the word, as in five) is 50 days. There are, therefore, nine days between the two Holy Days.

However, I think the fact there are nine days is "almost too good to be true."

There are nine fruits of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

How perfect is that?

As we consider Christ in glory, as King of the universe, we also look for signs of His kingdom here on earth. We pray (daily some of us) 'your kingdom come', which is as much about the present day, as that long awaited triumphant return. But as I look for signs of Christ's rule I am simultaneously looking for Christ's character, for he will rule as He is. And the Spirit comes in order to transform us more into Christ's likeness. Do you see the beauty?

As we meditate on His Ascension we are forced to petition the Spirit for a fresh anointing, a renewal, a transformation of our character to more accurately resemble our Risen Lord. Pentecost is a perfect conclusion to a micro-season of celebrating Christ's attributes as seen in the fruit, while reflecting on ways in which we need more of the fruit.

I accept that there is no way we can seriously reduce Jesus' character to nine attributes; it is admittedly artificial. Yet, the nine fruits of the spirit are an excellent framework, not only of Christ's character, nor only of a Christian's character, but in fact these values will be the foundational principles of God's kingdom when he comes. When we seek to be more loving, joyful, good, faithful...etc...we aren't seeking self-improvement, or more Christ-likeness (though these things occur) we are becoming the very answers to our prayer: 'May Your kingdom come...'

Ta da!!!!

Sounds cool, eh?

I invite you to spend a portion of each day leading up to Pentecost to reflect on each of the fruits, praying that you might better understand a) where the fruit speaks of Christ's life and passion, b) where in our own life we need more of that fruit, and c) how God's kingdom will be seen around us as we all seek more of these values.

Practically...and I hope this isn't too obvious here's the list (with the dates for 2014 in brackets):

Day 1 LOVE (Friday 30 May)
Day 2 JOY (Saturday 31 May)
Day 3 PEACE (Sunday 1 June)
Day 4 PATIENCE (Monday 2 June)
Day 5 KINDNESS (Tuesday 3 June)
Day 6 GOODNESS (Wednesday 4 June)
Day 7 FAITHFULNESS (Thursday 5 June)
Day 8 GENTLENESS (Friday 6 June)
Day 9 SELF-CONTROL (Saturday 7 June)

I hope you enjoy this if you do it. I'll be blogging each day. When I've written the blog I'll also create a hyperlink from this list too - so you need only come back here to find a link to every day's reflections.


Finally, I need to formally acknowledge John Methuen who wrote, in 2001, a paper for the Ripon Cathedral Liturgy and Music group from which I discovered this approach to Ascensiontide.

Ask...go on ask

If I'm honest I really don't pray like I think my prayers will be answered. Honestly.

If you asked me why I pray...well...I would talk a lot about adoration, about thanksgiving, I might even refer to prayers of relinquishment and prayers for internal, individual strength...and I do, in fact, have a little 'shopping list' in my prayer book, which prompts me to pray for my wife, my son (yes! I do even need to be reminded of this), my own needs, other people, events that are coming up, and work.

But as I consider the meaning of Rogation Days I am perplexed: when I ask for things from God, do I expect my prayers to be answered?

When I ask God to heal a friend's marriage,
or when I ask God to provide a buyer for my house,
or when I ask God to be with my non-Christian family...

...do I expect God to answer this?

More generally, I feel it is important God knows my mind, that I exhibit faithfulness and trust in his sovereignty, but do I believe the verses we're asked to read in Luke:

"So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened." (Luke 11:9f. NRSV)

It feels like a pretty foundational question, really...

There is so much vagueness in our prayers, so much 'if it be your will' hand-wringing, that I worry we have lost the confidence to, persistently (which is as much about relationship as petitioning) pray.

On Rogation day we pray for the land, for commerce and industry, for the environment and creation. We don't have the same panicked relationship with God our ancestors may have done who saw weather as a sign of divine blessing. Have we lost some connection with our circumstances that has dulled our sense of dependence. For it is not merely our prayers that are ineffective if not in accord with God's will, but our very lives:

"Abide in me...because apart from me you can do nothing" (John 15:5)

As we look to a future that is one of ordination and priesthood, and as we make practical arrangements for the move away from Bradford, the question isn't so much 'will God answer my prayers?' (although I hope he will), but 'will I persist in my relationship with God, will I abide, will I knock, seek and ask?'

Me, my calling, and a season of change

I believe God is calling me to be a priest.

Weird?!

Despite a life of ministry, leadership, and working for the church I've been taking seriously the nagging sense that God actually wants me to serve as a vicar.

But what does this mean? How have I been testing this call? And what's around the corner?

I'll deal with the last question first...

What's coming around the corner

In three weeks time I will be attending a BAP. That's a Bishops' Advisory Panel, which is a 48 hour residential where 'candidates' go to test their vocation to be ordained in the Church of England. My friend, Bryony, has written a brilliant blog on what her experience of a BAP was like. It also helpfully explains the activities, which I won't reproduce here. The BAP examines me and will make a decision whether or not to recommend me for training (Nb. it's not a recommendation for ordination as such...just that I should be allowed to train in the hope they let me get ordained, although in practice it's generally one and the same thing). I might not get recommended, but I am confident that God is calling me.

Like Bryony, I'm going to Shallowford, which is a retreat house.

My BAP date is 28th-30th April.

The BAP comes at the end of a LONG process that has been going on locally; a discernment process in which I and others examine my sense of calling. It is a season of testing.

How have I been testing this call

Since April 2013 I have been under the supervision of what's called a Diocesan Director of Ordinands (or DDO for short). An 'ordinand' (by the way) is a candidate for ordination: a trainee priest. My DDO, Ann, has been amazing. She has the difficult task of working with me to discern my sense of calling to a vocation as a priest.

However, before I saw my DDO, and for many years prior, I has already been sensing God calling me. Often folk in church (and lots not in church too) would say to me things like 'You'd be a great vicar' or 'have you thought about being a vicar'...or words to that effect. Alongside my own sense of God's voice calling me, these external voices have been encouraging and haven't stopped. Even in the last fortnight I've had people affirm my sense of vocation. People see something in me, which I must admit I sometimes don't!

After all these friendly voices, I've then chatted to vicars themselves. Mostly, my old vicar, Denise, from St Augustine's in Bradford, but after joining Pudsey Parish Church I've been chatting and exploring my calling with the vicar, Paul.

With approval and encouragement from these 'professionals' I was referred to see the DDO.

Well...actually...that's not strictly true.

The Diocese (the geographical patch under the care of a Bishop) through my DDO already knew me and my background, including a significant bereavement, so they suggested I see a counsellor for a season, which ended up lasting a year. The counselling also included Jen, my wife. This was enormously important for us. It helped us work through baggage and emotional trauma from our past, whilst also examining our behaviours, individually and as a couple, and what we might need to do to protect ourselves from the ravages of stress, pressure in ministry, and the need to balance our work-home arrangements. I would recommend everyone spend some time with a counsellor, simply to help you make space to 'know thyself'.

Only after our counsellor felt it appropriate did the Diocese consider testing my vocation in any depth. Please don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting the counsellor had to sign me off as having a 'clean bill of health' but that I was emotionally ready and able to withstand some of the pressures the discernment process might throw up, and some that might come in ministry.

In April 2013, I met my DDO for the first time. Since then we have met regularly to discuss different aspects of ministry, examine my experience and knowledge of the requirements and expectations of ordinands...

Within this process there's been other 'stuff' too...
- I wrote a biography of my life, including all the significant events.
- I produced an overview of my spiritual journey, which referenced much of my biographical material but examined how my relationship with God and my spirituality and faith have grown
- I wrote reflections on all nine of the criteria (there's a summary of the nine criteria here)
- Started meeting with a Spiritual Director, who I will continue to see
- I have had interviews at potential theological colleges, which included application forms
- 'Ministry Assessments': three separate interviews with local vicars who I didn't know. These were gruelling and threw up some surprising observations about my character and understanding.
- Meeting with the Bishop to discuss the assessments, and consider their concerns

Then there's a whole heap of preparation for the BAP itself...
- The multi-paged Registration Form
- Reflection on some aspect of mission (500-750 words)
- Prepare my BAP Presentation
- There were also FOUR references to be obtained (so not technically my work, but chewing over their content has been testing emotionally...it's so hard to read how other people perceive your strengths and weaknesses)
- Visit a counsellor for a pre-BAP session, in which we consider what might happen if I do not get recommended.
- Finally, Ann, my DDO, completes a lengthy 'Sponsoring Papers' in which she offers her observations

Phew!....

I hope you get the sense of how rigorous and thorough this process has been.

Alongside all this, we're also trying to sell our house and raise a three year old...

I feel enormous respect for ANYONE who puts themselves through this process (and I should add that my description is peculiar to me...different people may have a different journey, and different dioceses will have a variable approach...)

So what?

I've been asked today what effect this process has had on my relationship with God.

I cannot hope to explain in full the impact this season of discernment has had on my life. Right at the outset, two years ago, when I first chatted to the Bishop, he explained that I would come to realise that the process was good in and of itself. I was, at the time, uncertain what he meant. But looking back over the last two years I can honestly say I feel closer to God and my family, clearer in my understanding of what a priest is and how my individual constellation of gifts, experiences and personality fits me for that role. I am so much more comfortable in my skin - happier with what is good and determined to tackle my weaknesses. My prayer life is richer and more settled. My reading and thinking life has gone into hyperdrive - and I love it!

And yet, strangely, I am far more convinced of my non-vicar duties than before. God has been teaching me that ordained ministry aside, I am the only person on this planet called and equipped to be Husband to Jen, and Father to Elijah. No-one else is called to these unique roles. Only me.

Which is a profoundly exciting and scary realisation.

The whole thing has brought me closer to my wife and son.

But better still closer to God. And in that deepening intimacy, I have come to know myself better. I am able to be me with courage.

You?

So why did I bother to write all this down.

Chiefly, I want to let people know that I have this BAP coming. And I would welcome your prayers. I will need them. I want God's will to be done.

The 'results' will be known a week and a half after I get back, and naturally I am praying God is calling me to train for ordained ministry.

However, if I get a no, I am at peace about this too. For I have grown in this process and would know that I have a loving God and a loving family/friends around me to help make sense of the outcome.

And, finally, I will still say the prayer that has become my 'mantra' by Igantius of Loyola

Teach us, good Lord, to serve you as you deserve;

 to give and not to count the cost;

 to fight and not to heed the wounds;

 to toil and not to seek for rest;

 to labour and not to seek for any reward,

 save that of knowing that we do your will.

AMEN.

WISDOM AND FORGIVENESS

This is something I wrote quite a while ago, February 2007, clearly during Lent, and with the same readings we had for our Main office today: Jonah 3, and Luke 11:29-32.
I'm not sure I agree with myself, albeit a 27 year old version, but the sentiment is clear.


Luke 11:29-32

The Ninevites & Jonah: The Queen of Sheba & Solomon

Here Jesus holds up as examples, Jonah and Solomon.

One represents repentance, the other wisdom.

Jonah is understood to our modern ears almost exclusively as the reluctant prophet swallowed by a ‘whale’. Through rose-tinted glasses we wistfully recall Sunday School lesson that latched onto this most peculiar of stories to convince us that God is exciting, that God isn’t boring, but cool and…wait for it…funny!

Sadly this pre-occupation with the first chapter of Jonah fails to give credence to the sweep of the story, which moves through reluctance-disobedience-realisation-repentance-acceptance-frustration.

The fish is used by God to discipline Jonah.

However, Jesus uses Jonah to demonstrate to his hearers the need to not look for excitement and miracles. The crowd is swelling and crushing in on Jesus, for what purpose? To see this miracle-worker. Jonah is already miraculous enough, he's already a sign for them.

Jesus sensing their voyeurism speaks out, pointing them to true wisdom: the need for humility and repentance.

Indeed, so obvious is this truth that Jonah will speak out against that generation of listeners waiting for the next miracle, clamouring around Jesus.

And Jonah will speak out against us too. When we clamour for God to reveal himself, to prove himself - Jonah is a voice against us too.

Where is wisdom to be sought? Is it in the charismatic worship services full of praise and passion?

NO.

Wisdom is found on our knees before our creator, humbling lifting our hands in petition for our sins, clothed in sackcloth and ash. We are not to seek miracles (although they are God’s handiwork), we are not to seek signs and wonders (although they point to God’s majesty).

Until, as one, we cry out to God for ourselves, our families, our churches, our nation, our world; until then we will not know true wisdom.

It isn’t just Jonah who’ll testify against us, but The Queen of Sheba too.

She sought wisdom and was led to God’s anointed king.

We like her must seek God’s anointed king, Jesus. In him alone is their wisdom and truth to prepare us for the world, and only He can bring us to repentance.

And yet, here’s the remarkable thing; He is greater by far than both these heroes.

Jesus isn’t only the one who will bring us to repentance; He is the source of our repentance and forgiveness. He isn’t merely a mouthpiece communicating God’s forgiveness; He IS forgiveness. His blood cleanses us.

Jesus isn’t a wise man, He isn’t full of wisdom; he IS wisdom.

To seek Jesus is hunger for wisdom and forgiveness.

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As I said above, I'm not sure I agree anymore that Wisdom (i.e. Jesus) can't be found in worship (of whatever style). But I do think we should be wary of coming to worship, particularly the more dramatic styles, with the desire for signs and wonders as an end in themselves. We come to worship in order to hear God speak, to encounter the Living Christ, through Word and Sacrament, Prayer and Song.

Lenten Loving - Sermon

This is the text from my sermon preached at Pudsey Parish church last night, 9 March 2014, for the 1st Sunday of Lent. The texts were Deuteronomy 6:4-9,16-25 and Luke 15:1-10. Inevitably, my actual preach included stuff not here, and certainly didn't include everything present, but here it is.

Picture the scene, it’s late on a Thursday night, and I’m calling in at Pudsey Asda for a few bits, including a card for Jen, my wife. I travelate downstairs and discover the card aisle full of men, jostling for position to find a last minute card. The date, the 13^th February. What were we all doing there: desperately trying to find a last minute Valentine’s card.

Now I must confess to being habitually inept at birthdays, anniversaries and Valentine’s day. But I was peculiarly struck at the scene. Here we all were, apparently forgetful and (dare-I-say-it) unromantic souls, worried about upsetting our significant other by failing to provide a token of our love on the most romantic day of the year. Woe betide any man who fails to produce the goods. I chatted with another chap in the same boat. We complained that we had been duped by the media and card manufacturers, but also our partners. After all, we’d often been told: let’s not worry about Valentine Cards this year, which of course is a trap. You should always buy a card!!

For many, Valentine’s Day is not spontaneous: it’s a requirement, a law – you shall love your partner. And something in us resents being told what to do, especially being told to love someone. After all, you can’t force some to love – can you?

As Christians, we read in Deuteronomy, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.” (Deut 6:5)

Lent is often a time when we berate ourselves for our lack of heart, soul and strength. We commit to trying harder, to digging deep. Whether sacrificing a vice, or taking up charitable behaviour, we earnestly commit ourselves to following this ‘greatest commandment’ to love God. As Eugene Merrill suggests, it as a call to love with all our “essence and expression.”

But it is our experience that we are incapable of living up to this standard. The Apostle Paul writes the law “instead of giving life, brought condemnation; instead of producing holiness, it stimulated sin” (Rom. 7:10).

Our struggle with sin, with keeping our Lenten fasts, is entirely bound up in forgetting that “everything is predicated on Yahweh’s love and faithfulness” (p.57 Fee & Stuart 2002). We think it starts with us: that we have to muster some loving devotion from nothing, that we should simply ‘try harder’, when in reality we are simply asked to respond to God’s love. Saint John understood this better than most:

“This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins” (1 John 4:10)

“We love because he first loved us” (1 John 4:19)

If Lent’s focus is the cross of Christ, then it is a focus on the love of God, for the cross is God’s great banner of love.

And before we think this idea of God loving us is a New Testament innovation, hear these words from Deuteronomy: “The Lord did not set his affection on you and choose you because you were more numerous than other peoples, for you were the fewest of all peoples. But it was because the Lord loved you” (Deut. 7:7-8). The Old Testament goes on to speak of this love in human terms: as the love of a husband and wife, as the love of a father and son.

Thus, our response to the command to ‘love the LORD your God’ is one of “gratitude and devotion”.

Which rather begs the question – what makes us hold back from loving God 100%?

Our reading from Deuteronomy 6 presents three practices that might help us avoid a cooling in our relationship with God.

Firstly, a call to RECITE GOD’S WORD

Verses 6-9 are preoccupied with preserving and passing on the truth of God. Loving God is a matter of teaching and encouraging others and ourselves, in order to maintain devotion: a devotion that should permeate all areas of our life.

Verse 6 asks that God’s word be “upon your hearts”. Hebrew thought considered the heart to be the seat of thinking and meditation. I know it’s a well-worn refrain but how well are we doing at keeping God’s instruction on our minds? Eugene Merrill talks about reflection: how much do you reflect on what you’ve learnt about God? Paul recently referred to ‘reflective practice’ in nursing, and how Christians are generally quite good at thinking about how we’re doing, but how often do we reflect on what we’ve learnt about God?

We’re then told to “Impress them” – the commandments that is. The word is associated with the work of an engraver – how the words are made permanent. Are God’s words engraved on our hearts?

This work of engraving should include our children. We are blessed to have a cracking Youth Worker, a wide team of volunteers, developing relationships with local schools, and the Church of England expends vast amounts of money and energy on their schools.

But we must be wary of using these ministries as an escape from the responsibility to teach.

Elijah [my 3 year old] has just joined the toddler group and I’m keenly aware that I do not want him to only learn about Jesus there. It is a shame to think we and our children should study on only one day of the week. “Eternal truths are most effectively learned in the loving environment of a God-fearing home.”

It’s worth noting that an engraver has to chisel stone over and over for real success. So it is with faith, we are asked to talk about God day and night, when active (walking) and inactive (sitting), all throughout our life. There is the encouragement to surround ourselves with reminders, symbols of our faith on our bodies, but also in our homes and towns. When we love someone it should be a central and absorbing interest. The book of Deuteronomy is not primarily concerned issues of church politics and rules for liturgy, but “it sees faith and obedience to God as much a matter for the home as for the sanctuary. In sum it ‘domesticates’ the spiritual life.”

Are we actively engraving God’s word into our lives and the lives of our children? And is this being done everywhere?

 

Secondly, a call to RESIST DISOBEDIENCE, verses 16-19.

We read here of Massah – the place of testing – as recorded in Exodus 17. The Israelites are wandering in the wilderness and have begun to question whether God was really with them. The demand for water wasn’t so much about physical nourishment, as spiritual curiosity, but it showed their doubt in God’s promises. They called into question God’s faithfulness.

We too, in many and various ways, do the same. We complain to God and question His methods, motives and presence.

These calls for God to ‘prove himself’ showed a lack of understanding in God’s nature and character.

The opening verses of this passage are called the ‘Shema’ by Jews. But there is much debate about how the phrase in verse 4 should be translated:

“The LORD our God, the LORD is one”, or

“The LORD our God is one Lord”, or

“The LORD is our God, the LORD alone”

It is safe to say that the two aspects of God’s nature that are being revealed are his oneness and his uniqueness: Oneness in that he alone is the energy behind creation and history; Uniqueness in that there is no other. Or as one commentator says: Yahweh our God is the unique!

Having a clear sense of who God is makes the call to diligent obedience easier. Obedience does not come from “barren legalism based on necessity and duty. It [arises] from a relationship of love.” Obedience is critical, for imposing conditions and making petty demands of God is contrary to faith.

 

Thirdly, a call to REMEMBER YOUR STORY, verses 20-23

And so once more, we are asked to consider children, for they are “bound to enquire sooner or later why it is that their parents live a certain kind of life in contrast with the life of those about them”.

Well…. would they? Do they? This is a potentially embarrassing issue: does our behaviour at home undermine the words we say and sing in church? And not just for our children, but our wider family, our neighbours?

Here in Deuteronomy, the call is to retell the Exodus story; the moment when the unique bond between God and people was established.

When was that moment for you? What is your story of faith? When did you first encounter the love of God?

For many here tonight, this love was revealed to us when Jesus Christ came and found us while we were lost. Despite our sinfulness he reached into our lives and called us to him.

This is why the parables of the lost sheep and lost coin resonate so deeply.

Have you noticed, by the way, that the parable of the sheep has two moments of joy?

The first joyful moment is when the Shepherd puts the wayward creature on his shoulders. This is the moment of FINDING, but the second joyful moment happens once he is home, surrounded by his friends and family. Now maybe I’m reading too much into this, but it seems to me that if I lost a sheep and found it, despite initial joy, it would quickly give way to grumbling and complaining as I hoisted the beast back. I wouldn’t want a party but a bath!

I wonder whether we fail to recognise the carrying that Jesus implies he will do, and the joy that will accompany our arrival in heaven; surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses? We are saved, yes – but so much more, we are called to live with Jesus.

Corporately, our great act of remembrance is Communion, where we recount God’s past mercies and declare a fresh the covenant demands. This is another moment to explain to children and young people what we’re doing: why do we eat bread and drink wine? Perhaps this Lent will be a time to reflect on communion – what does it mean to you?

But most importantly, I would like to encourage you to remember your story.

People understand a story, not just children. Most of us have developed quirky, interesting, but often brief stories about how we met our significant other or closest friends. But many struggle to speak of coming to faith in similar terms.

So let me ask you, ‘how did you fall in love with Jesus?’

If you haven’t thought on this question much recently, take some time to reminisce. When we forget to stay thankful for God’s salvation we can quickly lose a sense of our history and meaning. And much like the parables, we are invited to remember with joy that moment of being found. This is the key in our story – it is this love and joy we find in Jesus the world should see.

 

In conclusion, these three principles are a general call to RIGHTEOUS LIVING, verses 24-25

The passage draws the themes together with a refrain to obey and fear God. It concludes with the words, “if we are careful to obey all this law before the Lord our God, as he has commanded us, that will be our righteousness.”

The word translated as ‘righteousness’ is complex. When used as here it describes being in right relationship with someone, that a person has been delivered or justified.

But the word could also refer to a way of behaving, rather than an outcome. This sense of being made right, or living-right is summed up perfectly in the Message translation:

“It will be a set-right and put-together life for us if we make sure that we do this entire commandment in the Presence of God, our God, just as he commanded us to do.”

 LENT

Concluding, there are different approaches to Lent.

I would encourage you to consider this season as an opportunity to re-learn how to love God. Yes, this is a love that is commanded, but only in response. Ronald Clements describes this love as “a consistent concern to point to the loving, compassionate and life-affirming nature of God, which demands that those who worship should do so with a warmth and joy that recognises a loving Father-God who is always more generous in giving than in receiving.”

Coming back to Valentine’s day, it’s certainly possible that the expectation of a card can lead to dry duty, but for me, I need Valentine’s Day and the card-buying process to remind me of vows I took, to remember all that we’ve been through, to show Jen I love her, and strangely, of course, the effect is not to create resentment, but it opens us up to more love.

The same is true with God. Over time our awareness of God grows, and, with knowledge, should “develop into a deepening love.” You may have been lost and found many years ago but God is always calling us deeper in.

Loving God is a matter for our entire lives, our entire selves. God’s call to love Him is nothing but a call to “the deepest and truest fulfilment of human life.”

May we respond to this call.

Moths and Ashes

So today is Ash Wednesday.

For the uninitiated this is the first day of Lent. It's an amusing scene in our house the few days before Lent starts. We often opt to give things up in Lent, which is an increasingly popular aspect of the season, even for non-Christians. As usual, we've decided to quit chocolate. To compensate we've not stopped eating it for the last week; Cadbury Creme Eggs mostly...but anything we can get our hands on. I've become especially partial to Malteser Bunnies. Not for another 40 days though...

Despite this, I have been growing increasingly worried that a chocolate fast rather misses the point. Why, after all, do we give anything up? And what good will it do?

One of the perks of my job is a degree of flexibility about working hours. As a result, I have visited Ilkley this morning, firstly for a coffee with a friend, but secondly to attend St Margaret's Communion Service with the imposition of ashes. This is a sombre service during which all present have a cross marked on their foreheads with ashes. The ashes are made by burning up the palm crosses from last year's Easter season.

The sermon was given by my friend, Chris Phillips. He too asked that we should all question our motives during Lent. And this was challenging, not least because his words uncovered some dangerous thinking I'd succumbed to about ashing.

You see, I'd always imagined that (a little like Good Friday walks of witness) by getting ash on my forehead it would be a natural conversation starter beyond the walls of the church. People might laugh or mistakenly advise me to wash better, but I would then be able to speak of my faith.

On the contrary, one Bible reading during the service stated clearly:

"Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them" (Matthew 6:1)

It was pointed out that wandering around with ashes on my head, might, in fact, be a sign of religious pride. I might genuinely end up speaking of God, but how might my ego, my pride me stroked and inflated.

Ashes serve two purposes: they are a sign of penance, and a symbol of our mortality. Talk of signs and symbols is, of course, to speak of sacraments. But imposition of ashes is not a sacrament, but it is (as Chris pointed out) 'sacramental'. I may be doing something with commonplace objects (ashes) but the act speaks of a deeper reality, and by taking part I am reminded. As the ashes were imposed on my forehead, these words were spoken to me:

"Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

Turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ"

By submitting to this rite, we are reminded that we have sinned, that we have not been faithful to Christ. Admittedly we do this every time we say the words of the confession, so why is this any different? It is because we simultaneously reminded that we will die.

It is incredibly unfashionable to speak of death.

But Lent is a season that is about death: the death of Jesus, but also our own death.

And this was made all the more poignant during the service when one of the congregation, a beautiful old lady called Joyce, who was too infirm to walk and kneel at the altar rail, was administered to where she sat. Seeing a (relatively) youthful priest gently, but firmly impose the ashes on this elderly lady, while saying those words, nearly brought me to tears. How must it have felt, for Joyce, who is plainly closer to death than most, be reminded of her mortality, but also her sinfulness?!

How does it make you feel to be reminded that you are sinful and you will die?

Meanwhile, during the sermon, I noticed a butterfly, or perhaps it was a moth, fluttering about, over the gathered assembly. Amusingly, the Matthew reading had just referred to moths:
"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume...but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth nor rust consumes...For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Matt 6:19-21)

As I studied the delicate butterfly/moth I smiled.

They are so fragile, but beautiful. They are so transitory too - their lives are brief.

And how much like them am I?

Our morning prayers contained these words from 1 Timothy: "We brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it" (1 Tim 6:6)

Our lives are so brief, so transitory.

But they can be things of beauty. The prayer of confession has us repent for 'marring your image in us'. When we sin, we somehow damage the person God designed and longs for us to be. We do this in so many small ways, without noticing. We fail to love God as we should and so our very image is damaged. We are caught up in the business of storing up treasure that will be eaten by moths!

And so much of our straining, labouring, toiling is about a false image we want to maintain, to try and keep people in the dark about who we really are.

Which rather brings me back to ashes.

I wanted people to see me with my little mucky cross on my head, not in order to evangelise, but in order to persuade people that I am better than I really am. I want to give up chocolate so that people will think I'm a better person than I am. It's all about posturing and pretending.

The reality of ashes was lost to me: I am grateful to have been reminded of my true nature.